Mistakes
by arian
Summary: When President Shinra dies, Rufus remembers an event in his childhood that changed the rest of his life.


# Mistakes

By Arian

Rufus Shinra stood in the large office at the very top of the grand Shinra building, staring coldly at the body of the president.

"Sir?" One of the many SOLDIER's asked tentatively. "Do you want us to remove the body?"

Rufus shook himself out of his thoughts and turned to answer the man who had spoken. "No. Not yet. Leave me, all of you."

The men left hurriedly and Rufus walked up to the front of the desk, where the body was still impaled by Sephiroth's infamous sword. "So, old man, how are things?" he laughed darkly to himself, then his face changed. "I hope you rot in Hell! Father!" He spat, angrily. "Poor father you were! And now you leave me to clear up your mistakes, your idiotic choices and your failures!"

His handsome face twisted in absolute loathing. "There is no choice left now but to continue on this path you so generously forged for me. I was never given choices to be anything that _I_ wanted to be, the company was always and forever the only destiny open to me." He almost smiled at the irony of it. "And so I _will_ run this empire you built. And it will exceed all of your wildest dreams… and your worst nightmares… It will become everything you dreamed it could be, but not in the manner that you wished it."

Rufus paused, idly flicking back that strand of blond hair that fell eternally onto his forehead. "As you ruined my dreams, so I will twist and distort yours, until it's nothing but a poor parody."

He remembered back to the day he had first begun to hate his father. He had been about 15 at that time. In one of the numerous rooms of the building he had spent many hours of his time sat at a piano, eyes scanning the music in front of him and his fingers tracing out the melody on the keys, just as he had been taught. On one such day, his father had walked in, surrounded, as always, by a swarm of SOLDIER's.

"Rufus, your teacher says you haven't been to your lessons these past two days."

He had stopped playing and looked up, unable to concentrate on the melody and answer his father at the same time. "I'm practising. There's a competition in Sector 4. If I play well I could win! I _will_ win! The Shinra do everything they put their minds to!" He had smiled in his childish enthusiasm, and just for a moment, the president had smiled back. Then the expression fell from his father's face to be replaced only by indifference.

"Admirable, but you need to learn your lessons. The history of our great empire, and how to look after it when the time comes, are not lessons that should be neglected. You are Rufus Shinra. Your place is not down in the slums, fighting for meagre awards with those maggots." He had raised an eyebrow at the dismay on Rufus' young face. 

"The piano lessons were a gift, boy. An amusement for you until the time came for you to _be_ something. It was a mistake to presume to take it this far and a price must be paid for all mistakes." The president had given a light-hearted laugh and waved a hand at his son to stand and follow him.

"What? Where are we going, father?" Rufus had towered over the squat man, even at only 15 years of age.

His father had ignored him, instead signalling to the SOLDIER's. "Take this outside and burn it." He said flatly, indicating the piano.

"No…" Rufus had gone pale at his father's intention. "No! You can't!" He rushed at the man, but two of the SOLDIER's had held him fast.

"Take him down too." The president added, as an afterthought.

Rufus had been dragged away, yelling, down to the ground floor and out onto a small patch of waste ground.

His father had appeared again before they had time to set the wooden frame of the piano alight.

"So boy, think of this as one of life's little lessons, hmm? Mistakes will not be tolerated, not even those with honourable intentions behind them." He had smiled smugly as Rufus struggled again to free himself, desperately wanting to wipe that smile from his father's face.

"Make sure he watches it." The president had remarked on leaving. "Hold his head in place, if necessary, and if he shuts his eyes…" He shrugged indifferently. "You'll think of something, I'm sure."

"Yessir." One SOLDIER had walked forwards and set light to the piano. Rufus had watched, still and silent, but seething with anger inside. _I'll remember this. Every time I start to feel compassion for that stupid fool, I'll recall this._ He had watched helplessly until the instrument was reduced to a charred mass, too stubborn to burn down completely, and his heart grew colder with every passing minute.

It was some time before the president had realised the full consequences of what he'd done. His son had become more ruthless and extraordinarily cold, not just with the people he dealt with, but even to him, his own father. This change frightened him, Rufus was now taking the place within the company that he wanted him to aspire to, but this new detachment was beginning to unnerve his father. At times, it was almost as if the boy didn't care.

Rufus swung his thoughts back to the present and glared down at the body once more.

"It seems you were right." He sneered. "Mistakes will not be tolerated. You have paid the ultimate price for yours. But I think that perhaps your biggest mistake was me, and I wish you were still alive so that I could make you pay dearly for _that_ error. I am what you have made me. I am everything you wanted me to be, except that I simply don't care about this damned company you've dumped on me."

"All those innocent lives… you're probably in Hell right now, crackling in the flames, where you belong." A thoughtful look crossed Rufus' face. "And after all I intent to do, perhaps I'll join you, but at least I'll be able to watch you suffer, even if I have to suffer myself!"

He strode quickly to the door and found a SOLDIER waiting for him there. "What is it?"

"The… uh, the body, Sir? What do you want us to do with it?"

"I don't care, I –" Rufus began, irritated, then stopped, an evil smile creeping across his features. "Do you know that patch of wasteland, just behind the building?"

The SOLDIER nodded.

"Take the body there. Then burn it." He chuckled a little to himself at the idea.

The man signalled and a group of SOLDIER's walked past him into the room and carried the corpse away. The man wasn't sure if it was respectful to burn the president's body on wasteland behind the building but he wasn't going to chance an argument with the new president.

As the corpse was carried past Rufus, he leaned down to his father's ear for a moment.

"So old man, think of this as one of life's little lessons, hmm? Mistakes are not to be tolerated." He whispered.

Hmmm. Yeah. Not one of my better fics. I just can't see Rufus as a piano playing sort of person, I think that spoils it for me a bit! But I do kinda like bits of it, all the same. Still, if you liked it, or if you didn't, let me know!


End file.
